


She

by uumuu



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Chocolate Box Treat, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, Jealousy, Love/Hate, Multi, Polyamory, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 07:01:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5996029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uumuu/pseuds/uumuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Celegorm hates his sister-in-law, but loves his brother more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thegreatpumpkin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatpumpkin/gifts).



Tyelcormo enters Curufinwë's bedchamber without knocking. The door is ajar, and he slips in without making any sound. Inside he finds only his sister-in-law – naked, hair loose – lounging on Curufinwë's bed – _their_ bed – with her back towards the door.

“You're late,” she says, without turning. 

Tyelcormo doesn't reply. He closes the door and walks up to the bed, a spiny tangle of emotions rising up in him. It's always the same whenever he sees her, when he scours her naked body with his eyes.

“We had agreed to meet at the Mingling,” she speaks again, finally rolling over. She locks eyes with him – dark shrewd eyes which glow like living coals. “You didn't show up so we started without you.”

Tyelcormo stares down at her grimly.

“Where is Curufinwë?”

She takes her time to reply. She sits up, throwing her hair behind her shoulders, her strong legs dangling over the edge of the bed for a while until she gracefully sets her feet on the colourful rug. “He went to the kitchens to fetch me something to drink. We had...quite a lot of fun in your absence.”

She smirks up at him. Tyelcormo suppresses a growl – or a groan – and puts his right hand to her cheek, a gesture that could have passed for tenderness. He grits his teeth. He can't help hating her for wedging herself between him and his brother. And yet he's drawn to her, too. If she hadn't been that beautiful, if she hadn't been so self-asserting, if she hadn't proven to be the perfect match for Curufinwë...if _he_ hadn't been so viscerally, maddeningly jealous.

“Don't wrinkle your forehead like that, it doesn't suit you. What's there to be angry about? He already filled me with his seed, but you can have your own share soon, or...you could take it from me.”

A shiver races through Tyelcormo. He slides his hand down the side of her head to her neck, curls his fingers around it. He could crush it so easily, deprive her of air snap her bones, and kill her as he has killed countless creatures in the wild. They both know he will never do it: he would never hurt his brother. He bends almost in half and just nips at that thin, fragile skin he could easily rip to shreds. He licks at her dark skin once – her pulse is loud under his tongue – then opens his mouth and bites. As he does, her laughter vibrates under his lips, inside his mouth, rings venomous in his ears. 

“Be a good boy,” she urges. 

Tyelcormo lets go of her neck and goes down on his knees. She opens her legs and parts her folds, revealing her opening glistening with pearly wetness. Tyelcormo buries his face in her crotch and sniffs at it, letting his nose brush against her slippery skin. He shudders, like he might recoil, but instead he closes his mouth over her slit and his tongue begins laving her with full, drawn-out strokes.

“That's it, suck it all out.”

It's by far not the first time he's done this. He licks her dutifully, barely pulling back for breath, tilting his head left and right. A grunt escapes his lips as her hands tangle in his hair and tug on it, threatening to undo his braid, but the movement of his tongue doesn't relent. She moans, and mutters words of encouragement. He stiffens his tongue and presses it inside her. He wants to make sure no trace of Curufinwë is left on her. And he likes her taste, he is used to it, though he would never say it out loud. 

The door clicks open softly, and there are light footsteps behind him, followed by the clinking sound of a tray being set down on the nightstand. 

Tyelcormo doesn't stop licking Curufinwë's wife's quim even as Curufinwë kneels behind him and wraps his arms around his waist.

“I'm happy you are finally here, brother,” he murmurs huskily, nips at his nape once, and begins to scatter the most tender of kisses all over his shoulders.

Tyelcormo hums his pleasure loudly. He slides his mouth up a little, turning the attentions of his tongue to his brother's wife's clit. His eyes dart up. She is close, he can tell, and like every time she will come against his face, pulling on his hair, and he will let her do it, for love of his brother.


End file.
